


I believe in ghosts

by Callmepapi



Series: *-Jaskier-whump-week-* [4]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Aard (The Witcher), Axii (The Witcher), Broken Bones, Brothels, F/M, Feminist Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Food, Ghosts, Hurt Jaskier | Dandelion, Jaskier Whump Week (The Witcher), Jaskier | Dandelion Whump, M/M, Overhearing Sex, Possession, Protective Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Rude - Freeform, Stuffing, ghost is a dick, rudeness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-28
Updated: 2020-07-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:28:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25575091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Callmepapi/pseuds/Callmepapi
Summary: Part 4 of the Jaskier whump week - ghost“Jaskier, get back!” Geralt shouted, in front of the bard floated a transparent figure. A ghost.OrJaskier agreed to let a ghost possess him for a night of fun. Geralt is annoyed.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: *-Jaskier-whump-week-* [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1848163
Comments: 2
Kudos: 98
Collections: Jaskier Whump Week





	I believe in ghosts

**Author's Note:**

> Woo, wow. I don’t hunk this one had as much whump as the others but I did enjoy writing it lol. Hope you guys like this one ; )

“Jaskier, get back!” Geralt shouted. Blood dripped from his sword onto the ground, having just slaughtered a group of ghouls. Jaskier stood ahead of him, back to Geralt, and in front of the bard floated a transparent figure. A ghost. At Geralt’s sudden shout, Jaskier turned towards him.

“No! Geralt, this is Alexander!”Jaskier explained, “he wants to possess me!” Geralt growled, “ Jaskier…” and used a hand to push the bard behind him. Jaskier relented, side stepping Geralt’s arm and continuing to talk to ‘alexander’.

“Geralt, it’s safe. He just wants one night of fun, then he’ll move on. Won’t you Alex?” The spectre brightened before looking at the Witcher. It spoke and it’s voice seemed to echo around them.

“I promise, sir witcher, that anything I do will only be out of the yearning of my heart, my needs,” he said, “the things I long to feel once more.” Geralt eyed him up and down, glancing back at Jaskier.

“You're sure about this?” Asked Geralt. Jaskier nodded enthusiastically.

“Geralt, who would I be to deny this man the pleasures of a warm bed? Someone to once again lovingly stroke his hair, and  _ other  _ things.” Geralt sighed, looking between the two once more before reluctantly agreeing and nodding his head, waving his hand at them. Jaskier beamed and straightened his posture, quickly bringing a hand to dust his outfit and fix his collar. He gave a happy thumbs up to Alexander who nodded back. The ghost stretched his shoulders before running on the spot and then taking off towards the bard - who wasn’t that far away - and seeming to fall into him, causing Jaskier to fall back against the ground. The quick coat dusting all for naught.

The bard, ghost?  _ Alexander _ stood up, shaking his head and casting a quick glance towards Geralt before his eyes widened and he touched his face, his tongue, his chest, even jaskier’s cock, which Geralt subconsciously growled at, making the ghost quickly remove his hands from the bard’s fragile equipment.

“No harm, no harm. So, witcher, where’s the best place for a good time?” Already Geralt was having doubts about this idea, from the way Alexander seemed to spit the word ‘Witcher’ out and from the cocky way he held himself. It was jaskier’s body, jaskier’s face, voice! But it wasn’t him, this inhabitant was an utter cock that wore jaskier’s skin for his own selfish needs and Geralt was certain that this wasn’t how the ghost had presented himself towards Jaskier.

“What’s on your list? Better to get this over and done with.” He grumbled. Alexander scoffed then tilted his head to the side in thought.

“So eager to get rid of me? Well, where to start. There’ll be sex, lots of sex. Some food maybe, I’m starving. Alcohol, gods I want to get smashed. Of course, you won’t be partaking in this, witcher. No, you’ll be on guard, making sure my…  _ host _ doesn’t get damaged.” Alexander spoke with his head held high, no doubt a noble in his former life, likely murdered by a servant that had tired of his ignorance. Geralt smiled at the thought.

“A brothel then, follow me.” Geralt turned and started his walk back to the town, the sound of soft footfalls behind him as Alexander followed.

The town was busy, for a night. The tavern was loud and bright, and many drunks filled the streets, stumbling their way home and slurring along to the remnants of a pub jig.

“Filthy pigs, the lot of them,” Alexander sneered, “ In my town I had the drunks sent off to fight. Better use spilling blood in a field than vomit on the road.”Geralt grimaced but decided to stay silent, better to keep the ghost happy, that way Jaskier would be safe.

“Have you ever fought a war, witcher? No, I’ve heard… that Witcher’s  _ eat _ people. Is that true? You certainly look like you’re capable of it. Imagine an army of Witcher’s, gods, how powerful one would be to own not one but hundreds of Witcher’s at their disposal.” Geralt breathed heavily through his nose, trying his best effort to keep calm. Gods, this ghost was such a dick. Had he not already been dead, Geralt might have entertained the thought of killing him himself.

Once Geralt had stabled roach the two entered the town’s brothel, bustling with people and loud with laughter and shouting, a party tune playing in the background. Alexander turned to Geralt and clasped his hands together.

“Right, I’m going to round up some whores. I don’t want you in my room with me, obviously, you’re a  _ man _ . But stay close, in case I need any help.” Geralt rolled his eyes at the ghosts obvious distaste of men, unknowing of the amount of times, and places, that Geralt had fucked Jas-

“Witcher? Are you listening? Your kind are a bit dumb aren’t they? Come on, just follow me.” Alexander led them around the brothel picking up a few working women as they went. Eventually they went upstairs, Geralt followed behind and sat on a chair by the door of Alexander’s room.

This couldn’t get any worse. It turned out that the bed was placed right against the wall that Geralt sat on the opposite side of which meant that on every thrust the bed banged against the wall and at one point the force nearly knocked Geralt off his seat. Not only that but Geralt could hear _ everything,  _ including the moans of the women and Alexander, who somehow sounded different from Jaskier even in sex. Where Jaskier would whimper and moan, Alexander shouted and more than a few times Geralt was pretty sure he heard a loud  _ slap _ coming from the room. Unluckily for Geralt it seemed that ghosts had no refractory periods, which meant that Geralt was sitting there for at least three hours.

When one loud shout vibrated through the walls, Geralt stood up. Enough was enough. He marched into the room, forcing the door open and slammed it shut behind him. Alexander scrambled to cover himself, shoving one of the women off the bed in his haste and using the blanket to cover his waist.

“You stupid Witcher! What do you want!?” He screamed.

“Times up. If you want to get other stuff done, then we’re doing it now. Get dressed.” Geralt crossed his arms, arching a brow at the ghost.

“We’ll get out, then! I’m not getting naked with you in here. And take the whores with you!”

~*~

Alexander found Geralt waiting outside the brothel, by the door.

“Right, food? I think so. How much coin do you have? I plan to buy the whole pantry. Of course, you won’t need any. Witcher’s don’t eat, do they. I heard that from a mage once, he studied Witchers, said they were fascinating. I think you’re all rather dumb and pointless of course…” Geralt let the ghost trail on as they neared the inn. It wasn't as busy as the brothel, thankfully, and they managed to get a table in the back, out of the way of everyone else. A busty woman came to take their order.

“Every meal you have, woman, and keep the ale coming,” the woman turned to Geralt, “the Witcher doesn’t want anything,” Alexander said. The woman nodded and hurried away.

“Did you see that? Tits practically falling out of her dress. Asking for it, really. That’s the kind of woman that should be working in a whorehouse, not some stingy old tavern. Do you care for women, witcher?” Geralt sighed, he sat up and cleared his throat.

“I think a woman should work where she wants to work, be it a brothel or a tavern.  _ And  _ I think a woman should be able to wear what she wants and not get accosted for it. It costs more for a covering dress, perhaps some women don’t have enough coin. How would you feel if it were you?” Alexander cleared his throat, shifting uncomfortably in his chair. Geralt smirked at him.

“Yes, well- ah! the food, glorious.” The same women came back the their table with two large plates of food, along with another woman with two other large plates. They smelled delicious, looked it too. There were thick slices of roast ham, roast duck, some kind of pie and a hearty broth. A man came over, carrying a jug and a goblet of ale. It was all placed on the table and the servers waited by for anything else to be asked of them.

“Well, go away! Leave me to eat in peace!” The servers hurried away, “ idiots, honestly,” he muttered. The ghost began with the ham and Geralt watched as he ate it all, rather fast for a human, and took a long sip of ale to wash it down. He burped in a manner that Jaskier would  _ not _ allow and didn’t even apologise. Geralt should be used to the rudeness of others but this was jaskier’s body, and it was a completely strange experience.

Alexander had wiped out the broth, bringing the bowl to his lips to drink down the remains. He sat back in his chair, rubbing his full belly. Geralt thought he would be finished now, two full meals enough to make a grown man puke, but then Alexander sat up once again, rolling his shoulders and grabbing a fork to dig into the pie.

“You’re not full?” Geralt asked him. The ghost seemed shocked that Geralt spoke up and he shook his head.

“Full? Ghosts can’t feel if they're full. I may very well be in pain from the food, but I can’t tell. It’s the bard who can feel it. I just get the pleasure of tasting it.” Geralt was shocked, taken aback by the words the ghost had told him. Jaskier wouldn't be able to finish one of these meals let alone two, going on three  _ and _ multiple goblets full of ale.

“Stop.” Geralt said, Alexander continued to shovel in the food and Geralt could tell it was getting harder for him to swallow, “Stop it. If what you say is true then Jaskier should be in pain right now.” Alexander chuckled and put down his fork, picking up his goblet to gulp down the ale.

“He very well is. I can still hear him you know,” he tapped his head, “Up here. But I don’t think he deserves this life. It’s wasted on him, travelling the world with a  _ Witcher. _ He should be living like this, like  _ me _ . I’ll take care of him, witcher, you don’t have to worry about him anymore. He’ll be long gone and before you know it, you won’t even remember him. Witcher’s don’t feel after all.” Geralt. Saw. Red. He jumped from his seat, grabbing Alexander’s collar and dragging him through the back door of the inn.

He threw him into the muck, “get out of him.” Alexander shook his head, laughing at Geralt as he spit dirt out of his mouth.

“I don’t think I will. In fact,” he reached into his inner pocket and pulled out a small blade, a gift from Geralt to Jaskier on his birthday, “ if you come near me I’ll stab him.”

Geralt couldn’t risk it. He didn’t know if the ghost was bluffing or if he meant it, but he couldn’t go near him. He watched as Alexander brought the knife to jaskier’s neck and began cutting a line, blood dripping from the wound. With quick thinking he brought up a hand and blasted Aard, watching as he went flying through the fence of a pig sty. Geralt hurried after him, kicking the knife from his hand, he would apologise later, and straddling his thighs. He noticed one of jaskier’s legs had bent at an awkward angle and was most likely broken, he’d heal him up once this was over. Alexander screamed at him and thrashed, slapping his face and kicking his legs out, mostly likely causing Jaskier a whole load of pain, but the bard could do nothing, trapped in his own body. Well, not if Geralt could help it.

“Out! Or I force you out!” Geralt shouted. Alexander laughed again, a ridiculous, evil laugh that made Geralt almost vibrate with rage.

“You and I both know that forcing a ghost to leave someone is a  _ very _ painful thing, witcher.” He sneered. Geralt grimaced, showing his teeth.

“A chance I’m willing to take.” And with a hand that he brought up, he formed the sign for Axii and commanded Alexander to leave. He screamed, as one would if being forced from their body, and the sound tugged at Geralt’s heart.  _ Stupid _ bard. Why’d he have to make stupid  _ deals _ with  _ ghosts _ . They wouldn’t be in this situation if it weren’t for Jaskier and his inability to shut up even when it came to otherworldly creatures.

Alexander continued to scream in agony as Geralt ripped his mind from jaskier. His whole body shook and eventually he went silent, mouth still open in an unheard scream as his limbs seized. Five minutes later, after strenuous effort on Geralt’s part to force Alexander to leave, Jaskier went limp and was panting like he’d run for days. His forehead was beaded with sweat and he was deathly pale, exhausted too as his eyes could barely open. But Geralt was distracted but the angry ghost that was splayed in the dirt.

Before the ghost could make a move, Geralt chanted a few words in elder and Alexander's echoing screams of denial were lost with wind. Now Geralt sat, Jaskier underneath him, unsure of what to do next.

“…ger’lt.” Geralt brought a hand to jaskier’s face and wiped the hair from his forehead, sticky with sweat.

“I’m here Jaskier, don’t worry,” he said, comforting the bard as best he could. Jaskier had quickly turned a sickly pale green colour and- oh, no. He was going to throw up.

“M’ gonna be sick.” Geralt hurried aside and rolled Jaskier over, careful around his broken leg, to face the dirt just in time for him to throw up the copious amounts of food that Alexander had made him eat.

“Ow,” said Jaskier, in between gags and retches. Geralt soothed him, rubbing his back and running a gentle hand through his hair. The retching died down and Jaskier rolled to the side, both arms clutching his stomach, grimacing. Geralt frowned at him.

“Stomach hurts, leg hurts” he said through clenched teeth. Geralt nodded, standing up. He carefully picked Jaskier up, one hand under his knees and the other supporting his back, taking extra care not to jostle the broken bone.

“It’ll be alright. We’ll bandage that cut, get that leg set and I’ll see to getting something for your stomach. You’ll be ok.” He said. Jaskier whimpered.

“Gods. M’ never doing this again. Was without a doubt the wors’ night of m’life,” Jaskier said sleepily. He yawned as Geralt walked them back to the inn, Geralt would book them a room and a warm bed. A bath if he had any coin left.

And, god’s, he would never let Jaskier do anything this stupid ever again.


End file.
